


if there was nowhere to land (i wouldn’t be scared at all)

by oopshidaisy



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Caretaking, Episode: s08e06 Charlie's Mom Has Cancer, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Missing Scene, Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed, irredeemable woobifying of dennis reynolds, just mac taking care of dennis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 12:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21338161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oopshidaisy/pseuds/oopshidaisy
Summary: "I feel too much!I feel too much!"-post-charlie's mom has cancer. dennis spirals after seeing his mother's corpse.
Relationships: Mac/Dennis Reynolds
Comments: 10
Kudos: 107





	if there was nowhere to land (i wouldn’t be scared at all)

**Author's Note:**

> idk man i just rewatched this episode and it sparked the "dennis reynolds has feelings" part of my heart so. here we are.

“Uh, Den?” Mac asks. He’s got two cups of tea in his hands, but the second is more a gesture of hope than anything. They’d struggled to get Dennis from the side of his mother’s grave back to the apartment, even with Dee and Mac each supporting half his weight. It feels like it’s been hours since the three of them stumbled through the door, since Dee deposited Dennis into Mac’s arms and stormed back out again, but Dennis is still catatonic on the couch, eyes wide and glassy. He’d stopped raving sometime during the car ride and hasn’t spoken since. “You’ll feel better once we get some fluids in you, dude.”

There’s an awkward pause where Dennis’ usual cutting remark would lie.

“It’s—I didn’t put any sugar in it, no milk, there’s no calories,” he carries on, floundering. “It’ll warm you up?” He hates that it turns into a question. He needs Dennis to guide him at times like this, tell him what to do.

But Dennis is curled on his side, still visibly shaking, staring at nothing. His shoes are smearing mud all over their upholstery. If he doesn’t snap out of it soon, Mac’s taking him to hospital. It’ll be difficult to get him all the way there without Dee’s help, but he can be strong enough.

“I’m just gonna,” Mac says. “Just gonna take your shoes off for you, bro.”

He sets the teacups down gingerly and sets about untying Dennis’ laces. All the while, Dennis remains blank and pliable, even when Mac allows himself the indulgence of squeezing his ankle – just trying to feel the warmth that reminds him that Dennis is still breathing.

“You’re okay,” he says, nonsensically. “It’s alright. You take as much time as you need.”

Dennis makes a soft noise, perhaps of assent. It might be dismissal.

“Can you… If you tell me what you want me to do, I’ll do it,” Mac says.

He looks for something – anything – in Dennis’ eyes that will give him a clue, but there’s nothing. Mac isn’t used to seeing his face like this, scrubbed clear of emotion. Even though Dennis says he doesn’t have feelings, he’s got a very expressive face. It always makes it difficult for Mac to decide whether to listen to what he says or what’s written across his face.

Dennis does sometimes have episodes like this, though. They’re not normally so quiet, which Mac guesses means this one is more severe, or something. And there’s no consistent way to deal with them either. Sometimes touching Dennis helps; it reminds him that he’s real and has a physical body that takes up space. On other occasions, even the lightest touch is enough to make him jolt and, once, even throw up. There are times when giving Dennis something to eat snaps him out of his funk; there are others when trying to make Dennis eat leads to getting screamed at or scratched.

At least Mac knows what set him off this time. It’s not always so easy to work out.

Mac spares a brief thought for Dee, who’s probably freaking out too, all alone in her apartment. He’s got more pressing issues to deal with, obviously, but maybe he should ask Charlie to go over there. It’s not like seeing a rotting corpse has done any of them any favors, with the possible exception of Frank.

“Okay,” Mac says, clapping his hands together. Dennis doesn’t even flinch.

Mac’s come to a decision, though, and it’s that Dennis could probably use a bit of a cuddle. When Dennis is thinking about death, he tends to like having someone fuss over him, although normally he’s able to ask for it. If he’s feeling spaced out because a celebrity he likes has died, he tends to ask Mac to hold his hand or just exist, quietly, next to him. It’s pretty gay, but Mac tries not to think about it like that.

So he wedges himself into the space at the end of the couch, careful to telegraph his movements. From this angle, he can see that Dennis’ breathing is shallow and irregular. He reaches out and lays a hand over Dennis’ ribs, exerting the barest amount of pressure. Just to remind Dennis to breathe deep, if he’s able to process that at the moment – or just to remind Dennis that Mac is there, if not. He times his breathing like the podcasts tell him to, breathing in for three beats, holding for another three, exhaling slowly. If only he could transmit the breathing techniques through touch alone.

He loses track of time. It’s pitch black, which would be helpful information if Mac could remember when they’d headed out to the grave or how long it had taken them to get back. It was dark in the graveyard, but it’s November. For all he knows, they saw the body at four in the afternoon. In any case, he can safely presume that Dennis has missed dinner, by now.

Mac’s missed it, too, but that’s a secondary concern. He’s prioritising.

Just when his eyelids are starting to get heavy, Dennis stretches out in a movement that startles Mac so badly his heart misses a full beat. Once he’s managed to calm down from _that_, he can’t help but notice that Dennis’ head is in his lap. Demanding even when non-verbal, that’s Dennis all over.

“You could’ve just asked,” Mac murmurs, shifting his hand from Dennis’ ribcage to pet softly through his hair. A tear drops from Dennis’ right eye onto Mac’s knee. “Hey, I’ve got you. You’re okay. I’m here.” He keeps mumbling nonsense; Dennis keeps crying.

It’s never nice, seeing Dennis cry. His face gets screwed up like he’s trying to force the tears back inside, and he goes red with the effort of it. But it’s better than the silence.

“Mac…” Dennis whispers wetly.

“Hey, buddy, there you are.”

“Can we…” Dennis twists against Mac’s thigh so that his face isn’t visible. “Can you move me?”

“You want to go to bed?” Mac asks.

“Mm.”

“We can do that.”

“Don’t drop me,” Dennis demands of Mac’s leg.

“I’ll try not to, man. You know I’ve been trying to pack on mass again, but right now I guess I’ll just have to make do with what I’ve got, right? And you’re still super light, Den, we should really think about getting some mass on you. Not right now, but like…”

“_Mac._”

It’s a good sign if Dennis’ voice can go that bitchy and demanding.

Mac shifts out from underneath him and tries to figure out how best to approach this. He laughs nervously. “I’m probably gonna have to, like, bridal carry you. How funny is that?”

“Hilarious.” Dennis’ head has lolled back against the sofa cushion. His eyes are bloodshot and there’s a hideous mixture of snot and tears tracked all over his face. And – of course Mac likes Dennis better when he’s feeling alright, but there’s something primal in him that’s satisfied by being able to take care of him.

“Okay, let’s do this,” he says, and scoops Dennis up, ignoring the strain in his back. He’s only thirty-five; it’ll be okay.

He wasn’t lying about how little Dennis weighs, either. Obviously there’s the unavoidable mass that comes from being a five-foot-ten man, but for the distance between the couch and Dennis’ bed it’s more than manageable. Even if he’s a little bit winded by the time they get there.

He sets Dennis down gently and tucks the blanket over him.

“Right, I’m just gonna get you a flannel,” he says. “Make you nice and clean.”

Dennis hums. He’s starting to get a little prissy about letting Mac see him without his makeup, but it’s worse when he gets foundation and mascara stains on his pillows. So Mac wets a flannel and brings along the bottle of eye makeup remover for good measure; Dennis must be wearing some of the good waterproof stuff if it’s not all over his cheeks by now.

When he steps back into the bedroom, Dennis’ eyes are closed but he’s clearly not asleep. Mac lets his footsteps make enough noise that Dennis won’t be surprised when the bed dips next to him.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Mac says. He approaches his task methodically, cleaning off Dennis’ face in segments. Dennis snuffles under the attention, and tears still leak down his temples intermittently. “Jeans on or off?” he asks when the last of the mascara is on a cotton pad.

“I’m not moving,” Dennis says, which isn’t much of an answer.

“Okay, well,” Mac says. “Call me if you need me.”

He goes to get up, but before he can Dennis’ hand darts to encircle his wrist.

“Wait,” he says. “Stay.”

“Until you fall asleep?”

Dennis makes a noise of frustration. “Sleep here.”

“Oh,” Mac says. “Alright. If that’s what you want. I might change into my pyjamas, first?”

Dennis just looks at him. It’s too easy to revert back to fishing for orders.

“Right. I’ll just go do that. Be back in a minute, though.”

He rushes through getting changed, switching out his shirt for a soft t-shirt that once belonged to Dennis and a pair of sweatpants that hang depressingly loose around his belly. He grabs an extra blanket from his closet, since they can’t afford to turn the heating up, and pads across the apartment to Dennis’ room.

“You awake?” he asks.

Dennis makes a vague noise of affirmation, his face mashed into a pillow.

“D’you want the light on or off?”

The silence ticks by for eight seconds – Mac counts.

“Light off, lamp on.”

“You got it.”

“You like this,” Dennis says quietly, when Mac is lying down beside him. Mac makes a quizzical noise. “Looking after me.”

Mac’s shoulders tense. “I want you to be happy,” he says, at length. “I want you to feel safe.”

“Okay.” Dennis reaches out, takes Mac’s hand in his. “I’ll be okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr @[morgans-starks](https://morgans-starks.tumblr.com/) and twitter [here](https://twitter.com/oopshidaisy)


End file.
